The Plague
by Angst Is My Middle Name
Summary: When the Enterprise receives a distress call from the Starfleet base on Beta Delta, it goes to their aid, and McCoy finds an old student there running things... and running herself ragged trying to cure the epidemic on her base. McCoy/OC friendship.
1. La Peste

_**Ah, my first nuTrek multi-chapter with an actual plot based on something that's not an OC being in immediate danger! It's almost like an episode.. Snap. Anyhoo, this little number popped into my head one day and wouldn't leave, where it grew into this monster that I post now. It is all finished on paper. Converted to type will be the fun part. But before I begin to ramble, here you go... The Plague.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek... blah, blah, blah.. you all know the drill. =]**_

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_"The plague was posting sentries at the gates and turning away ships bound for Oran."_

_**The Plague**__, Albert Camus_

"_Dr. McCoy, please report to the bridge. The Captain is asking for you_."

The Chief Medical Officer looked up from his paperwork upon hearing Uhura's voice over the intercom. Leonard 'Bones' McCoy sighed, rising from his chair, and headed out into the med bay. Thankfully, it was quiet in the large room. He informed Nurse Christine Chapel that he was leaving and that if any trouble arose, she should alert Dr. Winchester.

"Ah, Bones, there you are," Jim said as he stepped out onto the bridge.

"I'm assuming this is important, Jim."

"It is. Uhura, can you play that transmission for Dr. McCoy here?"

"Certainly, captain."

The lieutenant worked quickly and, soon, a female voice filled the bridge.

"_Attention, _USS Enterprise_, This is the CO and CMO of the Starfleet base at Beta Delta. We are requesting the aid of any medical and science personnel you are able to spare. We are facing a medical emergency. I repeat, we are facing a medical emergency and request the aid of any science and medical personnel you can spare. Over and out._"

McCoy turned to Jim and asked, "Are we headed to Beta Delta?"

"Of course! We'll be there in about twenty minutes. We're the only ship in the area. Once we get there, I figure you, me, and Spock can beam down to look at the station."

"Alright… The situation must be serious if one person has to be both CO _and_ CMO on a base. That's insanity."

"Well, I suppose we'll find out soon enough."

The two of them fell silent. It troubled McCoy that he hadn't heard mention of what _kind_ of medical emergency Beta Delta was facing. The worst-case scenario was an epidemic of any one of a hundred infectious diseases. They were a rare occurrence on bases, but they were not unheard of. (Most 'epidemics' involved various venereal diseases.) However, the tone of the woman's voice was clipped and tight, as though she were under a great deal of stress, which was understandable given her dual positions on base. Chekov's voice interrupted his train of thought every five minutes, chirping out the time until they reached Beta Delta.

"Mr. Sulu, you have the conn. Spock, Bones: with me."

The doctor and the first officer followed their captain to the transporter pad, where Scotty was waiting for them. McCoy felt himself tense up as Jim barked out 'Energize!' at Scotty, hating the feeling of his molecules being disassembled and put back together. On the pad at Beta Delta, they were greeted by a male being, pale blue in color with silver hair. He promptly rose from his chair and led them out to the CO/CMO. The young woman was short but exuded what could only be described as ferocity. Her dark blue eyes flashed while her crossed arms pinned down some her long, dirty blonde ponytail.

"Stonewall?" McCoy asked incredulously, causing the woman to look at him.

Her eyes got wide as she replied, "Chief?" uncrossing her arms. She then ran at him and threw her arms around his neck.

"Chief, I can't believe you're here! I didn't know you were on the _Enterprise_! Oh, I'm so glad you're here. Maybe you can figure out what this thing is."

"Wait," Jim said, "You two know each other? How? And who is she exactly?"

"This is Dr. McCay Jackson; we all called her 'Stonewall'. Y'know, like the Civil War general. She interned with me at Starfleet Medical. Always was my favorite."

"Chief likes me best because we have the exact same bedside manner and attitude," she explained, "I was dealing some snotty, wussy rich kid one day. Insisted his finger was broken when I _knew_ it wasn't, and he demanded that I perform several unnecessary tests to prove it. Finally got fed up with him and told him that his 'goddamn finger' wasn't broken and if he didn't get out I'd break it for him. Needless to say he left. Been Chief's favorite ever since. And you are-?"

"Oh, this is Cpt. Jim Kirk, and this is our first officer, Cdr. Spock," McCoy responded.

"Well, pleased to know ya. And welcome to Beta Delta. Sorry we couldn't roll out the red carpet," Stonewall said, "I really appreciate y'all coming. 'Fleet Command was doing jack shit to help."

"Is the nature of your situation that hopeless?" Spock asked.

"Not yet, I don't think. It's pretty bad though."

"What's the problem?"

"Well, Chief… I think I'm dealing with _Y. pestis_."

McCoy's and Spock's eyebrows disappeared they shot so high; Jim seemed confused.

"Are ya sure, Stonewall? That's pretty farfetched. Cases of _Y. pestis_ haven't been seen in over 150 years."

"I'd be positive if the tests weren't coming back negative. It's confusing the Hell out of us."

"Wait," Jim piped up, "What's _Y. pestis_? Why're you so concerned, Bones?"

"_Y. pestis_ is bubonic plague."

Jim's eyes went wide as he said, "Plague?! Like… Black Death?"

"Yeah, I was surprised too, " Stonewall replied, "It's all the symptoms of plague. Victims present with fever, pain, buboes, everything. Then, they get septicemic, then pneumonic, then… they die. I've tried antibiotics, anti-virals, steroids, and nothing's worked. There's nothing I can do for these men."

"You mean 'personnel'," Spock corrected.

"Actually, commander, I _do_ mean men. Come with me."

The three men of the _Enterprise_ shared a look before quickly following Stonewall. The curls at the end of her ponytail bounced as she walked, swishing slightly in the breeze. McCoy looked around the base. The buildings were mainly Starfleet general issue: big, shiny, metal, and cold. However, a few locals seemed to have moved in to operate some shops for the Starfleet personnel. These building looked much like log cabins with oddly rounded corners. He then looked beyond the buildings to see the reason for this strange architecture; the tree trunks had slight curves in them. The leaves glistened a jewel-toned purple, contrasting the yellowish tint of the sky. The base itself was enormous. McCoy spotted several personnel on various forms of transportation, ranging from bicycles to ATVs to motorcycles to actual cars. Spock asked about them, and Stonewall responded, "Oh, it's just because the base is so big. The hangars are the furthest buildings from everything, and a lot of people work there. These are just the quickest way to get there. Otherwise, it's a half-hour walk. Saves time, y'know. Ah… here's my office."

A sheet of laminated paper was taped over the original nameplate and read '**Dr. McCay Jackson-Chief Medical Officer and temporary Commanding Officer**' in large font. Stonewall pulled out an old fashioned key for the door.

"A key?" Jim asked, "Really?"

"This key is smarter than your average key," she replied, "To use this key, you have to be the one to whom it was assigned. It scans your thumb as you turn it and sends an electronic message to unlock the door. It's some pretty fancy stuff, really. Anyhoo… come on in, boys."

McCoy swore Jim snorted. _He_ happened to know that Stonewall was twenty-four… maybe twenty-three… something like that. The older doctor caught himself chuckling as he looked around her office. It was an eclectic mess of medical equipment (including multiple anatomical posters), posters of witty and/or historical quips, several thick books on medicine and tactics, and a variety of papers and PADDs strewn about the room. She unceremoniously shoved some things off of a couch and the chairs, earning a raised eyebrow from Spock and another snort from Jim.

"Now then… what did you mean earlier? When you said 'men'?"

"I mean that this disease is the man-hating, feminist, Amazon-woman, militant lesbian of diseases."

Jim damn near fell out of his chair. Both Spock and McCoy gave him a dirty look, but Stonewall just chuckled at him. He apologized once his laughter subsided about a minute later, saying, "Sorry…I've just never heard anything put quite like that before."

"Not a problem," she replied, "but it's the absolute truth. So far, the only personnel that have come down with the disease are male. There are about 5,500 personnel on base. 3,700 or so are male, and nearly 700 have fallen ill so far. 573 of those have died. That's an 82% mortality rate."

"It is, in actuality, closer to 81.857%," Spock corrected again.

"Eighty-two is close enough for me. Unfortunately, we can't find anything that it could be. The best idea we have is bubonic, septicemic, and pneumonic plague, and I think I've found something to back that up. Here-" she handed a sheet of paper to McCoy, "-this is a sign-out sheet for our research lab. Sample A534 is labeled 'Plague-Strain 23' and was signed out by someone called 'Albert Camus'. It's currently missing. Also, the fact that it existed is the only knowledge we have of it. No make-up, no vaccine, _nada_."

"Did you look for this 'Albert Camus' guy?" Jim asked; he received a death glare.

"Oh yeah, 'cause that's so _not_ the first thing I did," she answered in a voice dripping with sarcasm, "There's no one on base by that name and never has been. Albert Camus was a 20th century novelist and playwright from Algeria. One of his novels was called _The Plague_. It was about a small North African city called Oran that became overrun with bubonic plague brought by rats. The city was quarantined and cut off from the rest of the world."

"What happens at the end?"

"Plague dies out on its own, and the city gets let off quarantine. Happy ending overall, I'd say. I've checked all personnel from North Africa, and none of the four have the proper clearance for that lab. I've also run blood tests on all my medical staff to see if they had it, but many of them don't have access, either. Those _with_ access all have alibis for where they were. On top of all that, the security footage for that period of time has disappeared."

"Are you positive? Have you searched through all of the databanks and histories?" Spock asked.

"I put my best guys on it. Got jack squat."

"Can we see where the men have been quarantined?" McCoy asked, "Where are they being held?"

She shifted in her seat slightly and said, "Well… we ran out of room in the med bay, so we converted one of the smaller shuttle hangars into a quarantine area."

"A hangar?! You're using a shuttle hangar as a quarantine?!" McCoy responded loudly.

"What else am I supposed to do, Chief?" she half-shouted back, "They were sickening by the hour! We didn't have anywhere else big enough to hold them all! You would've done the same thing if you were in my position!"

McCoy fell silent and pursed his lips; she was right. He just hoped he'd never have to face down the bubonic plague on an epidemic scale. All it took was a glance to tell that Stonewall was stressed. She was paler than he remembered, with dark bags under her eyes and a pronounced slouch. Her uniform was wrinkled and had a couple random stains. It was clear that she slept in it on more than one occasion. Her stomach rumbled half-heartedly in the awkward silence. McCoy changed the subject.

"How are you holding up under all this, Cay?" he asked softly.

She chuckled darkly, noting the use of 'Cay'. McCoy only used it when they were speaking one-on-one on a subject or when he was trying to make a point.

"Well, I guess I ain't holding up to well, Leonard," she replied, "I eat once a day, sleep _maybe_ four hours a day if I'm lucky, and I'm running around like a chicken with its head cut off every day trying to figure out how to stop this goddamn plague from killing everyone on base. I'm tired and stressed as fuck. Other than that, I'd say I'm far better than some would be."

"Yeah, I'm sure you are. Come on, Stonewall… I need to see what we're dealing with here."

She let out a heavy sigh before rising from her chair and beckoning for them to follow her. She led them out to a small car and drove them over to the shuttle hangar in silence. Female personnel were coming and going in a steady stream. A table by the entrance held masks and gloves.

"You two had better stay out here," Stonewall said to Jim and Spock, "It's pretty bad."

Neither of them answered her, instead silently donning the gear and following her inside.

_"Everybody knows that pestilences have a way of recurring in the world; yet somehow we find it hard to believe in ones that crash down on our heads from a blue sky. There have been as many plagues as wars in history; yet always plagues and wars take people equally by surprise."_

_**The Plague**__, Albert Camus_

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_**So that's the first chapter of The Plague! Be sure to review and let me know what you think! I hope to put up the second chapter soon!!**_


	2. In the Part of Dr Rieux

**_Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up.. Finals+sickness=not conducive to typing up the story... but I have the next chapter here for you now! This one does have a bit of language and slightly more graphic in the medical way. All my info on the plague comes from Wikipedia.._**

**_On with the story!_**

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We tell ourselves that pestilence is a mere bogy of the mind, a bad dream that will pass away. But it doesn't always pass away and, from one bad dream to another, it is men who pass away._

_**The Plague**_

Even McCoy was unprepared for what he was met with upon entering the hangar/quarantine. The smell hit him immediately: a mixture of body odor, vomit, pus, and various other bodily fluids. The infected were laid out in rows on the floor, all on mattresses. They appeared to be arranged by the form of plague they had. Those with bubonic were laid near the door as they were the least contagious. Those with septicemic were next. McCoy suspected those with pneumonic plague were hidden somewhere else; it was the most contagious form of plague.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Jim said hurriedly, rushing back out the door.

"Perhaps I should go and check on the captain," Spock stated calmly, following Jim out the door.

Stonewall shook her head and returned her attention to McCoy. McCoy, meanwhile, was examining one of the patients with bubonic. He was completely maxed out on painkillers yet still vaguely in pain. McCoy pulled back the sheet that covered the young man, revealing buboes at his neck, armpits, and groin, a few of which were oozing the pus and blood they contained. Even through the gloves, the doctor could tell the man had a high fever. An IV was slowly dripping fluids and painkillers into his body, and a catheter line could be seen running down his leg to a collection bag. His skin was slick with sweat.

"You said you've tried everything?" he asked, getting to his feet.

She nodded, saying, "Yep, and none of it worked. The best I can do for 'em is to put 'em on painkillers. So far, everyone who went septic has died. Ninety percent of those with pneumonic died, and about 68% of those with bubonic went the same way."

"And Starfleet refuses to send ya any more personnel?"

"Yeah, all they'll send is materials now. Said it would take too much time to reassign personnel when this 'epidemic' will be over in a month. _That_ was two months ago. Now, we just get supply shipments every week. Y'know, sheets, masks, gloves, instruments, tubes, bags, everything. It sucks…"

McCoy placed a hand on her shoulder and said, "Don't worry, Stonewall, I'm sure Jim is gonna approve staying here to help. He's like that. More heart and courage than brains most times. We'll help."

She didn't reply, instead smiling up at the older man as he suggested they go out and check on Jim. (At least, he thought she was smiling; the mask covered her mouth.) Outside, they dropped their gloves and masks into a trash can labeled '**Incinerator**', and she dropped her lab coat into a bin for '**Laundry**'. Jim and Spock were seated on the ground under a tree. Jim smiled brightly at them, quickly getting to his feet.

"You okay, Jim? Ya weren't lookin' so hot when ya left."

"Yeah, I'm fine," the captain replied, "I just threw up a little bit."

McCoy rolled his eyes and said, "I guess that's good. Look, we have to stay and help, Jim. There's no way in Hell they can keep goin' like this. We have plenty of personnel to offer for help, and I'm sure they're just itchin' to get off the ship."

"Of course we're gonna help, Bones."

"Certainly," Spock interjected, "We have more than enough resources. I would suggest we keep lines of contact open in order to use our lab to test while their lab is busy. It would be a good way to make use of our male personnel."

"Exactly," Jim replied, turning to Stonewall, "Don't worry, Dr. Jackson, we won't leave you in this position."

"Thanks, captain. And please, call me either 'Cay' or 'Stonewall'. 'Dr. Jackson' makes me sound stuffy and uppity."

"Only if you call me 'Jim'."

They grinned at each other, and McCoy knew a deal had been struck. The sun was setting as they made their way back across base, and McCoy suggested he stay on base to help monitor the situation.

"I'll have a cot set up in my quarters for you," Stonewall said, "I reckon we'll both fit."

"Sounds good. Jim, I'll beam up with you and Spock to talk to the medical team about what's gonna happen tomorrow. Then, I'll beam back down and set up shop."

Back in the base's transporter room, they were greeted by an irritated young woman from engineering who had either just woken up or had never gone to sleep. However, this did not impede her work, and the three men were safely beamed aboard the _Enterprise_.

"Ah, welcome back," Scotty said cheerfully, "Wha's the plan?"

"We'll be staying a while, Scotty," Jim replied, "Get her ready to orbit Beta Delta."

Scotty answered "Aye, cap'n," and trotted off to Engineering with one of 'his lads' in tow.

"So… Cay was your favorite intern, huh, Bones?"

Jim's face was pure, sly, evil joy. McCoy took the opportunity to whack him upside the back of head and walk away, his captain and friend complaining loudly to Spock as he left the pad. Two nurses greeted him in the med bay: Nurses Chapel and Houlihan. He told them to get the medical team together for a meeting at 1800 hrs GMT, and sure enough, his whole medical crew was waiting for him; he got right down to business.

"Okay, here's the deal… What we've got down on Beta Delta is a strain of _Y. pestis_ that, somehow, is only able to infect males of a species. Therefore, every female nurse, surgeon, and lab tech in this room is beaming down or taking a shuttle to the surface to help supplement the dwindling crew down there. My male personnel will remain on board to keep track of this crew, along with a few female personnel to look after – ah – _feminine_ issues. The guys are also to be on hand to run tests on blood samples we send up. If you think you're beginning show symptoms of an infection of _Y. pestis_, _please_, for the love of whatever higher being you put faith in, quarantine yourself _immediately_. Now, all of ya get back to work."

Jim was waiting for him outside the med bay.

"Bones, why are you going down there?"

McCoy turned to look at him, his steps faltering slightly. The tone of Jim's voice was deadly serious, as was his expression.

"I have to, Jim. Stonewall's undermanned beyond belief. She needs all the help she can get. Plus, it's a good chance for us to catch up."

Jim's eyebrow shot up Spock-style as he said, "Catch up? What part of being in the middle of a plague makes this a good time to _catch up_? Are you sure she was your favorite _only_ because of her attitude?"

"Jim, why do you always think that someone has to be in a sexual relationship with someone they call their favorite?" McCoy asked exasperatedly, "No, we never did. It is highly unlikely we ever will. Stonewall was my favorite because she had a similar attitude and was – is – a promising surgeon and doctor. Taught her everything she knows about xenobiology. Makes me wonder what she's doing on a base like Beta Delta."

"Well, I'm sure you'll find out when we beam down."

"What? Jim, you can't. You'll-"

"I'll what? Get sick? So could you! I'm not letting you go down there alone."

McCoy looked at his friend for a moment before deciding that arguing would be utterly pointless and time consuming. He sighed, rubbed the back of his neck, and grumbled that Jim better not do anything stupid. Jim smirked and rushed off. McCoy shook his head before going into his own quarters to put together a duffel for his stay. He got another surprise on the pad.

"Spock? What are you doing here?" McCoy asked.

"I would think it obvious, doctor. I am accompanying you and the captain back to the base. It is my belief that my position as science officer would be most helpful."

"Dammit, you don't know how this disease works! What if you get sick, you green-blooded hobgoblin? I can't keep an eye on both of you! I'm a doctor, not a babysitter!"

"That will hardly be necessary. I can handle myself just fine. Jim, however, is another matter entirely," Spock replied with a hint of humor.

McCoy snorted; Jim pouted. The doctor sighed, "Well, I reckon it's pointless to argue with ya. Let's just go already."

He braced himself as Jim barked out the command to energize, still hating the feeling of his molecules being taken apart and put back together. The same grumpy engineer was waiting for them on the base's pad, still frowning and obviously having consumed at least four more cups of coffee. Stonewall was seated beside her, also a few cups of coffee in. She seemed surprised.

"I wasn't expecting two extra," she said, smirking, "Guess we'll have to pair up for bed for a while. Only one good cot left in this godforsaken place. Personally, I call Chief. I've heard about your reputation, Jim, and I don't trust you as far as I can spit."

McCoy snorted again; Jim pouted again.

"Don't worry, Jim, you and Spock'll both fit on the cot. Anyhoo, follow me, boys."

"Your quarters seem to be a distance away from your office, doctor," Spock said, "I was under the impression that many officers kept their quarters near their offices when on base."

"Yeah, well, when you've got a plague on your hands, you tend to make your quarters where you've set up your quarantine. Makes it a lot easier for people to wake you up in the middle of the night for shit that's not important or that you already know. Therefore, I set up camp near the hangar."

"We need to go back to the hangar?" Jim asked, "How're we getting there?"

"Well, that's the interesting thing," she replied, "We only have four cars, and they're all being used. So… who knows how to ride a motorcycle?"

Jim's eyes were wide and excited when his hand shot into the air.

"Good. You take Spock on this one. Chief, you're with me."

After Spock had adjusted Jim's duffle with his own, everybody mounted up. McCoy took some extra time to fiddle around with his bag. He'd seen too many motorcycle accidents at Atlanta General to be comfortable with _actually_ riding on one. Nonetheless, he wrapped his arms around Stonewall's waist (perhaps too tightly). He tried to keep his eyes shut and his face buried in her back, but Jim shouted at him to pick his head up and look around. It wasn't so bad, really. McCoy could almost understand why people used these deathtraps… _almost_. It was pretty cool to be able to see all around you. He was beginning to enjoy it until Stonewall took a tight corner, at which point he buried his face in her shoulder until they stopped at the hangar.

"Come on, Chief, it wasn't that bad," she chuckled.

McCoy took one look at his trembling hands and said, "Yeah, keep tellin' yourself that."

She and Jim laughed a little before she led everyone into her quarters. This room was even more eclectic than her office. Film posters covered almost every inch of the walls, and they weren't even recent films; every one was from the 20th and early 21st centuries. The floor was covered with scattered piles of books and clothes. Her bed had bright purple sheets on it with a deep blue comforter. A large cot had been placed in the middle of the room and covered with Starfleet-issue bedding. Stonewall scratched the back of her head, saying, "Sorry about the mess in here. Don't really have much time to clean just now. Just drop your bags anywhere, I guess. Chief, I reckon we'll be sharing for a while."

"How come you and Bones get to share?" Jim asked, pretending to pout.

"Because," she answered, "one, I don't trust you to share a bed with me. Two, I've known Chief the longest. I find it rather awkward to share a bed with someone you barely know, at least without a little social lubricant, anyway. Besides, if I have to wake up to go look at something medical, the odds are that he'll wanna be there, too."

"Exactly," McCoy agreed, "We need to be prepared. And if _you_, Jim, get woken up in the middle of the night, _you_ won't go back to sleep, and you'll just annoy anyone left in the room. You and Spock both gonna fit on that cot?"

"I am quite sure we will both be comfortable," Spock interrupted.

"Alright, boys, simmer down," Stonewall said, "Everyone get settled in. I've got stuff to take care of. Feel free to explore the base… or stay here for all I care. Be back later. Oh, you all have a key to get in here and my office. Chief, you also have one for the hangar and med bay."

She gave an absent-minded wave as she left. McCoy just flopped down on the bed, watching Jim and Spock. Jim had dropped to the floor, sitting cross-legged, picking through the books on the floor. Spock had his hands clasped behind his back, examining the posters on the walls. McCoy gave the room a brief once over again, and this time, he found something interesting. Under the rumpled, unmade covers, he found a stuffed bear wearing a lab coat and dressed like an old-fashioned doctor; he smiled.

"Hey, Bones, what's that?" Jim asked.

"What's it look like?"

"You know what I mean…"

"Yeah, I know," McCoy responded, "I… uh… I gave this to her. It was her birthday, the first one her parents couldn't come out and see her for. She was upset about it, so… well, I set up a surprise party for her. This was my present."

"Aww, Bones, you're such a sentimentalist."

"Well, we'd better keep that under wraps. Don't wanna ruin my reputation."

Jim chuckled, but Spock said, "It was my understanding that sentimentality was a good trait in humans. Was this incorrect?"

"No, Spock, you were right. Bones here just wants to keep people thinking that he's a gruff, angry doctor. Imagine if _our_ crew thought he was a pushover!"

The young captain seemed very amused and gave the doctor a small wink. The doctor smiled back. Jim then suggested that they go explore the base until Stonewall was done with her work, so they did. They bumped into the grumpy, coffee-guzzling young woman from engineering. She was very tan, with black hair up in a messy knot on top of her head; she seemed only a bit taller than Stonewall. Jim took a (quiet) stab in the dark and guessed she was Puerto Rican. He also decided to strike up a conversation with her.

"Whaddaya want?" she asked.

"Just wanted to say hi. Name's Jim Kirk."

She looked him up and down before answering, "Reyes. Tatiana Reyes. Dangerous for you guys to be here, y'know. That plague or whatever only gets guys sick."

"Well, me and my friends can't help but get ourselves into trouble."

"And who are your friends?"

"Oh, this is Dr. Leonard McCoy, and this is Cdr. Spock, my first officer. So, I bet it's rough on everyone here, what with this plague."

"You don't even know, sir," Reyes said, taking a sip of coffee, "Boss has everyone working in the quarantine for a shift, plus we gotta take over the work of everyone who's sick or kicked the bucket already. Sucks…"

"Why are you unable to receive replacements?" Spock asked.

"Because the 'Fleet _won't send_ any fuckin' replacements," she spat, "Sees us as a liability. Boss complained about it a hundred times already."

"What?" Jim exclaimed, sounding shocked, "That's horrible! How can they do that?"

Reyes shrugged, saying, "They're worried that the plague won't stay limited to male personnel. If it evolves to infect everyone, this base is fucked. See ya around."

It was a very blunt end to the conversation. Jim turned to McCoy and said, "This can't be legal, Bones. Starfleet can't do this to them."

"Unfortunately, they can," the doctor answered, "There's a reg that states that the 'Fleet can refuse to send replacements or a crew to anywhere deemed unsafe or dangerous. If they see this plague as a threat to male _and_ female personnel, they're not _required_ to send help and risk more lives. It's a shitty thing to do, but it's legal."

Jim cursed under his breath as they started walking again. Their exploration led them into one of the locally owned shops on base. They were greeted by a male, maybe middle-aged, with pale blue skin, silvery hair in a tight braid, and lanky, almost spindly features. His eyes were nearly sea foam green.

"Welcome, gentlemen," he greeted in a singsong sort of voice, "What can I do for you today?"

"Not much, we're just havin' a look around," McCoy replied.

"You are from the _Enterprise_, are you not? You came to help?"

"Yeah… what do you know about it? This whole… plague thing?"

"Very little, to tell the truth. I know it has affected a great many men on the base. Many have died from it. We are quite worried, however, so far, we have been lucky."

"What do you mean by that?" Spock asked.

"None of our people have fallen ill with the disease. It is very fortuitous."

"Really?" McCoy said, cocking an eyebrow, "That's fascinating. Thanks."

He turned on his heel and left; Jim and Spock had to jog to catch up to him.

"Bones! What was that?" Jim asked, "Where are we going?"

"We have to find Stonewall. Come on."

_From now on it can be said that plague was the concern of all of us... each individual citizen had gone about his business as usual, as far as this was possible._

_**The Plague**_

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It's a long one! I'm going to apologize ahead of time for the weird bipolar-ness of my chapter lengths... and I have nothing against motorcycles. My dad has one and I've been on it with him a few times. It's fun! I don't know when I'll be able to update next, but keep an eye on those inboxes for the update!**_


	3. No Reason for Giving Up the Struggle

**_Hey everyone! Sorry it took so long for this chapter.. I know it's been a while. I've just been super busy with packing up for school, finals, work, and bartending school. Craziness. But I have finally found the precious time to type this up and post it up =] So without further ado.. Here's chapter three!_**

_**A/N: MRE stands for 'Meal Ready to Eat'. It's food in a bag that you cook by heating up the food with hot water. They come in all meals with multiple foods for each. They are often eaten by members of the military while active zones. Civilians can buy them in certain catalogues or online.**_

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_There's no question of heroism in all this. It's a matter of common decency. That's an idea which may make some people smile, but the only means of fighting a plague is – common decency._

_**The Plague**_

"Why didn't you tell us that?" McCoy exclaimed, "That could be important!"

"Well, forgive me for not noticing a subtlety when I have a fucking plague on my hands!" she replied, "Thanks, though. That's useful information."

"What's the percentage of personnel who've fallen ill who are human or humanoid?"

Stonewall thought about it for a minute, obviously thinking hard. Finally, she said, "Now that I think about it, all of them are. Think that's important, Chief?"

"I'm sure it is," McCoy replied, "We'll make sure to send some blood samples up to the _Enterprise_. Your lab's swamped."

"True story. Alright, I can send it up with someone in about half an hour."

She flipped open a communicator and called for Reyes.

_"What?"_

"I need you to do me a favor, Tati…"

_"What?"_

"Can you take several blood samples up to the _Enterprise_?"

_"From who?"_

"Make it a surprise. Do it ASAP, 'kay?"

_"You got it."_

"How many is she going to bring?" Spock asked, "You did not give a specific amount."

"Oh," she replied, "she'll bring somewhere between eight and twelve."

"How can you be sure?"

She gave him a look before responding, "Simple. We've come up with a system. It's on the wall."

Stonewall returned to her paperwork as they turned around. Jim found the sheet, and it read as follows:

'**A' = One**

'**A couple' = Two**

'**A few' = 3-4**

'**Some' = 5-8**

'**Several' = 8-12**

'**A lot' = 12-18**

'**A load' = 18-36**

'**A ton' = 36-50**

'**A shitload' = 50-100**

'**A shit ton' = 100-200**

**Anything higher will be specified.**

Spock seemed confused again, saying, "This is an extremely illogical system, Dr. Jackson."

"It's been workin' just fine for us," she answered with a smirk.

Spock simply raised an eyebrow. Jim was smirking too, obviously amused by their argument; McCoy had to admit it was pretty funny. The three of them stood around the office until she yelled at them to leave so she could work in peace. A five-foot-two, blonde, twenty-four year old woman had never cleared a room so quickly. They decided to go back to her room and wait for her to finish.

"She's pretty scary, Bones. Was she your protégée or somethin'?"

"Nah, she was always that scary. I guess ya have to be when you're a genius, thirteen-year old, high school senior. Scared people almost as much as me… almost."

Jim snorted and picked up a book off the floor to peruse, as did Spock. McCoy decided that it was a good idea and grabbed one for himself. Stonewall didn't come back for another two hours. She looked worn out under the smile she offered. A young man was following close behind her. He had short, auburn hair and warm, honey-colored eyes; he was about a foot taller than Stonewall.

"This is my XO, Ltc. Danny McNabb. Works in Communications. He's gonna take y'all over to the mess. I have work in quarantine to do."

"I'll come with ya," McCoy said, "You should come have dinner with us though. You look like ya need it, Stonewall."

"I'm _fine_, Chief."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"This morning."

"_What_ did you eat?"

She paused a moment, lips pursed, before replying, "I ate half an MRE for breakfast."

"What? No, you need to eat. You're gonna work yourself ragged. You just told me yesterday you barely sleep."

"I get a few powernaps during the day… sometimes."

Jim and Spock were watching their conversation with interest. McCoy puffed up a little, saying, "Dammit, Cay! You're lucky ya haven't collapsed yet!"

"Well, I don't exactly have a lot of free time! I'm busy! I'm doing twice the amount of paperwork I should, plus I've had to do about 575 death reports! I'm lucky to get what I do, Leonard!"

The other two seemed stunned by her use of McCoy's first name. They almost appeared uncomfortable with the whole situation, now determinedly looking anywhere but at them. The two doctors were glaring at each other, and McCoy decided that this was no different than dealing with his (incredibly stubborn) nine-year-old daughter… or Jim for that matter: threats of something they hated.

"You're coming to dinner before you work, Cay," he said slowly, "or I will sedate for the next two days and shove a feeding tube down your throat."

McCay's eyes narrowed, a sign that she knew she wouldn't win. Without letting up on her glare, she replied, "Fine," and turned on her heel to walk out of the room. McCoy heard Jim sigh in relief. Stonewall was fidgety all through dinner, jiggling her leg and picking at her food, obviously not pleased to be there. McCoy tried another tactic: placation.

"You know what you're doin' isn't healthy, Stonewall," he said quietly.

"Yeah, I guess… but I can't bring myself to do it. I just feel… I need to keep working until I can fix this," she explained, "I feel like I'd let these guys down otherwise."

"They ain't gonna collapse in on themselves if you ain't there. Your staff's gonna be fine on their own for a few hours… and they sure won't begrudge you a little more food or another two or three hours of sleep. Trust me. Eat up."

Her lips twitched, and she popped a few forkfuls of potato into her mouth. McCoy had to admire her work ethic, and he knew he would be the same way in the same situation. However, he found he'd always been quite protective of her, seeing her as a little sister or even a daughter. He'd be damned if he was going to let her work herself to death… or exhaustion. He followed her to the quarantine after they finished eating, suiting up in a lab coat, gloves, and mask to avoid catching the disease; Jim and Spock chose to stay away. McCoy was once again stunned by the smell. Stonewall seemed unaffected.

"After about a week, you get used to the smell," she said, "Just part of life."

"Yeah, I guess… still pretty bad though," he replied.

Stonewall didn't reply. She just jerked her head toward the patients and muttered, "Come on," gently tugging his sleeve. McCoy was astounded by how little could actually be done for the men. He spent five hours in the hangar just administering hypos of painkillers and sedatives and various other drugs to about 175 patients. There were only five other people working; it was exhausting. By the time they left, Cay looked utterly worn, pale with dark bags under her eyes and heavy lids. She completely ignored Jim and Spock when she and McCoy returned, simply collapsing on the bed in her uniform and curling up against the wall. She fell asleep immediately.

"Rough night in quarantine, Bones?" Jim asked quietly.

"With seven staff and 175 patients? Yeah… you could say that," McCoy replied.

He gently pulled off her boots and set them down beside the bed.

"I believe we should rest now," Spock said, "Tomorrow is going to be an important day."

The other two men offered their agreement and crawled into bed.

_What's true of all the evils in the world is true of the plague as well. It helps men to rise above themselves. All the same, when you see the misery it brings, you'd need to be a madman, or a coward, or stone blind, to give in tamely to the plague._

_**The Plague**_

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**_There it is! Hope you all enjoyed it! Reviews are always appreciated to let me know how it is!_**

**_Updates will probably be sporadic because I'm not sure when I'll be able to type, so just be on the look out! Thanks so much!_**


	4. Cleaning Up the Streets

**_Yay! I got this up way earlier than I thought I would =] I don't really think there's anything particularly confusing or in need of explanation, so I'll stop rambling and let you get on with the story!_**

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_So long as the epidemic lasted, there was never any lack of men for these duties. The critical moment came just before the outbreak touched high-water mark, and the doctor had good reason for feeling anxious. There was then a real shortage of man-power both for the higher posts and for the rough work... But, paradoxically enough, once the whole town was in the grip of the disease, its very prevalence tended to make things easier._

_**The Plague**_

McCoy couldn't remember Jim being so good at coordinating people, however, the captain had managed to collect every specialized group necessary for them to help Jackson on Beta Delta. He put out orders for able hackers to look through the security footage and every bit of computer space for the missing footage showing their unknown suspect taking the disease; they would work with Spock. McCoy, obviously, would be in charge of everything medical, from research to supplying medical teams to supplement what Stonewall had. Meanwhile, Jim headed up the coordination of work teams to help out on base, easing the burden on the base's personnel as well as collecting extra supplies and provisions that were on board to send down to the base.

"You are quite capable at putting together work teams, captain," Spock stated, "I will admit that I did not expect it from you."

"It's Jim, Spock, and it's just one of those things I was good at."

Jim flashed his trademark smile, causing McCoy to roll his eyes and verbally prod the captain along so they could take their shuttle back down. Stonewall was waiting for them at Beta Delta's makeshift shuttle bay near the transporter pad. Her eyes went wide at the sight of the medical team.

"Chief! You didn't have to bring your _whole_ medical team!"

"This _ain't_ the whole medical team… just most of the women. Had to leave some behind to handle certain issues on board. Jim and Spock brought down some other crews, too."

She beamed widely at that information before calling over nurse named Hart.

"Hey, show these ladies the quarantine. You know how it works," she said.

Hart gave the affirmative and beckoned for the other doctors and nurses to follow. Stonewall opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by her comm beeping.

"Ma'am, it's Lt. McNabb. You've been requested by an Adm. Pike of Starfleet Command, as was Cpt. Kirk. Seems to know he's here. He's waiting for you in video conference."

"On my way, Danny," she answered, "C'mon, Jim. Let's go. You should probably come too, Chief. Help elaborate on my medical situation."

McCoy agreed and followed, while Jim left Spock in charge of everything. McNabb was waiting for them in Stonewall's office. He seemed nervous.

"He's a bit agitated, ma'am, mostly with Cpt. Kirk," he explained.

Stonewall just smiled and led everyone into the office. Pike's face was frowning on the screen, and it only deepened when he saw Jim.

"Kirk, do you even know the meaning of 'following orders'?" he asked sharply.

"Sir?" Kirk replied, playing dumb.

"Starfleet issued specific orders for all ships to avoid Beta Delta due to an outbreak of a contagious disease. It's dangerous. You realize you could've killed half your crew?"

If Jim was bothered, he didn't show it. He simply stated, "Sir, I received no such orders. The latest message I received was from Dr. Jackson, requesting assistance for a medical emergency. I responded with aid."

"Well, you're there now," Pike sighed, "You let me know, _personally_, if and when you get this mess cleaned up. Then, I'll get Starfleet to send aid of our own."

"Yessir," they replied in unison.

"McCoy, what's your opinion of the medical situation?"

"Well, it ain't too good, sir. Got a lot of essential personnel either sick or dead, it seems, and the unaffected personnel are getting' run ragged by all the extra work. I'm gonna get a team together to try and figure why this disease infects who it infects and hopefully take some pressure off the base personnel. Gonna be rough, though."

"I've got faith in you, McCoy. You and your team. Got anything to add, Jackson?"

"Cdr. Spock is gonna have a team look at the surveillance footage to find what was wiped. I think have an idea of who the culprit is though… in a broad sense."

"Who?"

"Sir, I think a local opposition group who call themselves 'Kleel Mai'iy' is behind the attack, which is what I'm calling this now. They've been opposed to a Starfleet presence on Beta Delta since our arrival about ten years ago. They've claimed responsibility for several attacks on base and against Starfleet in general. Thankfully, they are a _very_ small minority.

"The followers are all nativist extremists. Unfortunately, if I'm right, this means that the Kleel Mai'iy have infiltrated our base. I am confident, however, in Cdr. Spock's team. I'm sure they'll find the culprit, sir."

"Me, too, doctor. Alright. Don't start an epidemic, Kirk. Good luck, Jackson. Pike out."

The screen flickered black. Jim grinned, saying, "That went well."

McCoy rolled his eyes again as they met back up with Spock, and Stonewall began to elaborate on the Kleel Mai'iy. She explained, first of all, that the native language of Beta Delta was near impossible for most other species to pronounce and learn due to its almost musical nature. Many of the words were the same but had an emphasis on different pitches and tones; this distinguished one word from another.

The Kleel Mai'iy had started their existence as a peaceful protest group, with their name meaning 'First People', and they simply disapproved of a Starfleet influence on their planet. After a couple years, a violent faction emerged, changing the intonation of the name of the group so that it meant 'Only Truth/Way'. This group relied on terrorism to achieve their ends and didn't stop at otherworld personnel. 'Collaborators' were fair game, too. That cut down on their appeal to the masses, and it cast them in a terroristic light, making them unattractive even to potential followers within the original Kleel Mai'iy. After a while, they cooled off considerably, making targets only of Starfleet personnel. Recently, there had been rumors of increased recruitment.

"The locals are pretty cooperative for the most part," Stonewall explained, "They don't like the Kleel Mai'iy anymore than we do. Many can still remember the attacks on citizens from a few years ago… but a lot of young people are joining these days as a sort of rebel thing. They often recruit from gangs and out on the street, actively seeking out troubled youth. It's pretty bad."

"What was done to stop them the first time?" Spock asked.

"Again, the citizens were really cooperative. They were turning people in almost every day. I think they even set up a special court for them. It was presided over by a judge named Saye'eesa. She's a big advocate of ours. Thinks – rightly – that we're good for the economy, that we provide jobs and all that," she replied, "Judge Saye'eesa's been very good to us.

"But enough about that. We _have_ to find the person who did this. Come on, let's get to work. Chief, you come with me to the quarantine to check up on your ladies."

_Evening after evening gave its truest, mournfulest expression to the blind endurance that had outlasted love from all our hearts._

_**The Plague**_

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Another chapter done! Reviews are like cold beverages and air conditioning on a hot day! Keep an eye out for the next chapter!**_


	5. The Culprit Discovered

**_Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up, but life's gotten a little busy. I've been working, going to play practice, and had a friend visiting from Buffalo. But, I will not simply sit here and prattle on about my life... I'll just let you read the story._**

**_A/N: I am not, nor have I ever been, a doctor or medical student. I do not actually really know if this is a feasible situation, but it was the best I could come up with. Please, just bear with me. I am also not, nor have I ever been, a law student or lawyer. I don't know military or civilian law. Again.. please bear with me. Thanks =]_**

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_The one way of making people hang together is to give 'em a spell of the plague._

_**The Plague**_

After a few days, there had been almost no developments in the case. The only things that improved were the fact that no new cases of plague had come in and that Jim had managed to put together an effective schedule to help alleviate the pressure on the base personnel. McCoy was with Stonewall in her office, helping her with some of the paperwork, when one of Spock's people rushed in, panting.

"Take a breath, lieutenant," Stonewall said, "Then report."

The young woman took several deep breaths, then said, "Cdr. Spock is requesting your presence in the computer lab. He believes he found something of relevance."

"Why didn't he just use the comm to call us?" McCoy asked, "Wouldn't that have been quicker?"

"The commander is worried about possible interception of intrabase comm calls. He suggests that we use messengers and runners until the matter is solved ma'am."

"Understood, Lt.-"

"Rickerson, ma'am."

"Lt. Rickerson. Return to Cdr. Spock and tell him we'll be on our way shortly. I'm gonna put out that order to use messengers and runners for the time being."

Rickerson said, "Yes, ma'am," and hurried out. Stonewall quickly put out the message, adding that people ought to make sure their comms were always off and preferably disabled. She then disabled her own after relaying the message. She looked at McCoy, saying, "Let's go, Chief."

"Must be a big deal Spock doesn't want us to use comms. And is worried about someone intercepting information," he said, "Spock loves technology."

"Then we'd better find out why."

They broke into a jog. Spock was waiting for them at the lab along with Jim.

"So what's the big deal, Spock? Why are you such a technophobe all of the sudden?"

"I am not a technophobe, as that would denote a fear of technology, and fear is an emotion. However, I can tell you that we have made a rather large development here in the computer lab."

"Okay… tell me what you found."

"Lt. Fern managed to discover the location of the video file which contains the identity of the culprit."

Stonewall's eyes got wide as she said, "Who was it? Did you watch it?"

"We were waiting for you, Dr. Jackson," he replied.

"Play it, Spock."

Spock gave a brief order, and one of the larger screens flickered into life. At first, it just showed an empty lab and doorway. After a few seconds, a figure strode into view, punching in a key code and turning a key. He walked in and over to the shelf where the samples were kept, examining it closely before picking one up. When he turned to leave, he wasn't as careful as when he came in. The security camera got a good look at his face as he rushed out. The footage ended the same way it began: an empty lab and doorway. McCoy turned to look at Stonewall. She was stunned; Spock noticed.

"It appears that you know this person, Dr. Jackson," the Vulcan stated.

"Yeah… yeah, I do. His name is Jila'angm Aann. He's an engineer on base here. Just joined last year, I think… a local. I… I never thought…"

She had to stop talking, obviously overcome with an inability to form sentences any longer. She took a moment to collect herself, then said, "Get me Connery and Moore. Now."

McCoy placed a hand on her shoulder and asked quietly, "Are you alright?"

Stonewall opened her mouth briefly, then closed it in favor of nodding mutely. McCoy didn't remove his hand until Connery and Moore arrived.

"Ensigns, get Lt. Aann and take him to the brig. Make sure no one sees him while he's there except yourselves. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Dismissed."

Once they were gone, Jim turned to Stonewall and asked, "What're you gonna do?"

There was a very pregnant pause before she answered, "Whatever it takes," and stormed out of the room, with Jim, Spock, and McCoy on her heels.

"Dr. Jackson, I must inquire about your course of action-"

"Think about this, Stonewall-"

"Cay, I know you're upset, but-"

"Of course I'm upset!" she half-shouted, turning abruptly and causing the three men to screech to a halt, "What about this would make me feel okay? But I'm not gonna do anything stupid! Calm the _fuck_ down! All of you…"

She heaved a sigh and turned back around, hurrying to her objective. The three men glanced at each other before jogging to catch up to her. McCoy could almost feel the energy and power radiating off the young woman, and he knew that this was just the tip of the iceberg. When they entered the brig, her dark blue eyes had gone almost black and were flashing vaguely, like the quite rumble that precedes a thunderstorm. Stonewall didn't even have to say anything. The man at the desk silently pointed towards the direction in which Aann had been taken. Connery and Moore were waiting outside an interrogation room.

"He's in there, ma'am. Never said a word," Moore said.

"I'll take care of it," she replied, "You go wait in the other room."

McCoy found himself unable to argue and urged Jim and Spock to follow Connery and Moore into the viewing room. It was an old-school interrogation room. On one side of the mirrored glass was a soundproof room with only a table and two chairs on either side. Aann sat in one facing the mirrored glass. In the room that now held McCoy, Jim, Spock, and the two security personnel, there was a small screen, some recording equipment, and a switch to allow those in the room to hear the interrogation. The door to the other room flew open, revealing an exceptionally angry McCay 'Stonewall' Jackson. Aann's mouth was a smirk.

"Aann… why did you do it?"

"Do what, doctor?"

"You know what."

"I'm afraid I have no ide-"

The sound of Stonewall's hands slamming onto the tabletop cut him off; he flinched.

"I do not know what you are talking about, doctor," he said evenly.

"Play the video," she spat. Connery quickly hit a few keys. The video screen flickered into life, catching Aann's attention. He paled slightly and swallowed.

"Now then, Aann… would you like to change your story? 'Cause I don't like the first one much."

"I suppose I have no choice now, do I?" he asked; he received a nod of the head.

"In that case, then, yes. I did it. My plan wasn't nearly as effective as I had hoped for, but it served its purpose well enough. You see, I had hoped to kill all of you… _invaders_. Unfortunately, it only affected certain males. A tragedy, really. Now, I'm sure a lawyer must have been dredged up for me by now. Isn't that Starfleet policy?"

"You're not a member of Starfleet anymore, Aann. I'm putting the whole area under martial law and will soon be dishonorably discharging you from Starfleet. Then, you'll be Judge Saye'eesa's problem, and you _know_ how much she hates the Kleel Mai'iy."

"You can't do that."

"Watch me, you piece of shit."

She turned to leave.  
"You know, doctor… I rejoiced at every death."

McCoy had never seen a woman that size bring down a man so much larger than her, let alone with a single backhand. She snatched him up by the collar, fueled by adrenaline, and hissed, "I will make you pay for each and every one of those deaths, do you hear me? I will make sure that you do not get off easy. You will rot in prison for the rest of your miserable _fucking_ existence. I will _personally_ make your life _Hell_."

After that, she released him and looked towards the mirror briefly. McCoy felt a shiver run up his spine. Her eyes were so dark and were flashing so much that it was like watching lightning being drawn into a black hole. It felt like an eternity passed before she finally exited the room and joined McCoy, Jim, and Spock. She let out a shuddering sigh, covering her face with her hands. McCoy immediately stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders, whispering, "Are you okay?"

He was startled when she looked up at him. The twenty-four year old woman suddenly seemed about forty, world weary and tired of life. Thankfully it was only a brief flash. She smiled up at him and nodded, then ordered Connery and Moore to go fetch Aann.

"Listen carefully. I want Aann placed in solitary confinement and under suicide watch. No one, and I mean _no one_, gets in to see him unless I personally bring them in. You two stand guard for now, just outside his cell. I'll get the head of security to set up a rotation schedule out of a hand picked few and get some guys to guard the entrance to solitary. Now listen good… I don't care who shows up to see him: his father, his mother, the president, admirals, or even Jesus Christ himself. Understood? _No one sees him_."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Dismissed."

The two men marched out. Stonewall let out another sigh and slumped into a chair.

"I can't believe I missed this," she muttered, "It should've been so obvious."

"Don't blame yourself, Cay," Jim said, "This wasn't your fault. _He_ made the decision to release that disease, to infect all those people. There was nothing you could've done."

"That's why they always called me 'Jinx', I guess."

"What? Who called you that?"

"Pardon, but I am unfamiliar with this word 'jinx.' Is it a common name?" Spock asked.

"No," Jim answered quickly, "it's… it sort of means 'cursed.' Like bad things keep on happening to one person, you say they're jinxed."

"Yeah… like me."

"Please explain."

"At the Academy hospital, I lost about a patient a month, all through no fault of my own. There was nothing that I did or didn't do that caused their deaths. They all just… died. Like the homeless guy who died from anaphylactic shock after suffering an allergic reaction to a painkiller. Or the girl who turned out to be a thick-skinned hemophiliac. Or the guy who woke up from a two month coma only walk out of the hospital and get hit by a bus."

"They all sound to me like unfortunate accidents. Did they all happen to you?"

"That they did," she said, rising from her chair, "Wanna help me finish that paperwork, Chief? I could use your help."

"Sure."

The two doctors walked out of the brig and right into a brawl. They spared a glance at each other before leaping headlong into the fray to break it up. McCoy lost track of Stonewall after they dove in, he felt confident tat she could hold her own. They finally made it to the center of the melee, where they had to pry apart two men who arguing over which shift they had in the laundry. Thankfully, neither came up the worse for wear. Stonewall, already in a bad mood, started bellowing at them, saying that this was a ridiculous thing to fight over and the next time it happened, she would throw them both in the brig for a week. (A few obscenities were laced in, as well.) The two men scurried off like kicked puppies.

"Good Lord," McCoy sighed, "I'm glad that's cleared up. Testosterone and fear don't really mix well."

"What did you just say?" she asked, staring up at him.

"I said that I'm glad that's all cleared up."

"No, Chief, not that. The other thing!"

"About testosterone and fear?"

"That's it!" she half-shouted, "I can't believe I've been so stupid! That's the common link! Testosterone! Every male who got infected had the hormone testosterone!"

"It can't be that though. I mean, women have a small amount of testosterone, too."

"Maybe… maybe it needs a combination of both to survive, of testosterone _and_ estrogen and other hormones but with a majority of testosterone. Every infected male was humanoid or human."

McCoy turned the theory over and over in his mind, and it was the best idea they'd had so far. He looked back to her and said, "Well, I like it. What are we gonna do?"

"We throw the hormones off balance until they're better," she said with a smile, "The _Y. pestis_ should, by now, be used to the hormone levels of the body it's infecting. By throwing a new amount of, say, estrogen, into the mix, we should get rid of it, right?"

McCoy shrugged with an, "I guess," that resulted in Stonewall breaking into a wide grin before grabbing his hand and dragging him off to the quarantine.

_What's natural is the microbe. All the rest - heath, integrity, purity (if you like) - is a product of the human will, of a vigilance that must never falter. The good man, the man who infects hardly anyone, is the man who has the fewest lapses of attention._

_**The Plague**_

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I'll try to be a little more constant with my updates from now on, but I can't make any promises. Reviews are an excellent motivator, though ;]**_


	6. Consternation

**_I am SO sorry it took me so long to post this chapter! My summer was ridiculously busy, especially at the end between work and summer theatre and packing for school... Hopefully, I'll be able to post more often and a little quicker now that school's started... but enough of my excuses.. On with the story!_**

**_Warning: Mentions of terrorist actions and medical gore. Strong T applies here._**

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_We can't stir a finger in this world without the risk of bringing death to somebody. Yes, I've been ashamed ever since; I have realized that we all have plague, and I have lost my peace._

_**The Plague**_

Two days later, the situation was clearing up nicely. Injections of small amounts of estrogen had begun their work of ridding the men of their infections. Quarantine was now just a precaution to make sure no infection got out. Stonewall had gotten together with the head of security to set up a schedule of rounds for Aann's suicide watch and security, and while she had forbade them from allowing visitors to see him, she personally escorted his mother in after an impassioned plea on her part. McCoy had the fortune (be it good or bad) to witness the conversation. He could understand why it was a difficult language for other species. It was almost musical in nature, the mother's voice a sad mezzo soprano against Aann's defiant baritone. He almost wished he could understand what was being said, but the mother's sad, loud tone said more than words ever could. However, she did recount the talk in Standard.

"Even to me, his own mother, he is unapologetic. He regrets nothing he has done… killing all those people," she explained quietly, "It hurts me, Dr. Jackson. I… I know I should disown him, remove him from the family, but I find myself unable to do so. He is my son."

Stonewall cast her eyes to the floor, so McCoy spoke up.

"Ma'am, I know that I can't imagine what your goin' through, but I do sort of understand. I can't imagine my daughter committing such an act. I dunno how I would handle it. Probably a lot worse than you."

"Laws and traditions dictate that I may disown any family member who brings this type of shame to the family. Murderers and traitors have always been sent away… but he is my youngest. You will be discharging him, will you not, Dr. Jackson?"

"Yes… it's been done."

The distraught woman turned to look at her son, and after a long moment, she spoke in her native language. Aann exploded with rage. McCoy looked at her. After a moment, she whispered, "Jila'angm is no longer worthy to carry the name of the family of Aann. He has no name or family. He is nothing in our society."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Stonewall said, "May your family know only honor and never disgrace."

Mrs. Aaan looked to McCoy, saying, "You are shocked, doctor. You would not have done it?"

"On Earth, we don't have to."

"For that, you must be grateful."

"I am now."

"I must be on my way. The family must know. Peace, doctor, and may your family know only honor and never disgrace."

She inclined her head briefly and exited. Before McCoy could any of the questions floating around his head, Stonewall spoke up.

"On Beta Delta, family is the most important thing, and it's a matriarchal society. Therefore, Mrs. Aann had the authority to disown Jila'angm from the family. From here on out, he won't be allowed to use the family name anymore. He'll be given the surname Ishna'la. It means 'alone' or 'abandoned'. It's a word used exclusively for the disowned. A little something I learned from Judge Saye'eesa. Taught me everything I know about the culture here. The disowned, or Ishna'la, have very few rights, but most of them are in prison anyway. Even orphans have family names from when they're born. You have to do something really, _really_ bad to have your family name taken away… to become an Ishna'la. I'm honestly surprised it took her this long to do it."

"I just can't imagine completely cutting someone off from their family," McCoy muttered.

Stonewall just shrugged as she opened the door. Jim and Spock were waiting on the other side, where she had to explain everything again.

"That seems especially harsh," Spock said.

"I dunno, I think the guy deserves it," Jim responded.

The two doctors chuckled softly to themselves as Spock and Jim began to argue. Spock's expression never changed while Jim's brows furrowed and his face reddened slightly. It was always amusing to watch them fight, especially because the way they argued was so vastly different and because it was so obscenely difficult to figure who actually won once all the dust settled.

Spock was in the midst of a very logical speech about why family units are so important to individuals when people started shouting from the other end of the base. A vehicle came hurtling from the direction in which they were now looking: an average looking pick-up truck. Security was yelling, trying to get it to stop. They were even firing their phasers at it. Stonewall took a few careful steps toward it. McCoy suddenly became aware of many things at once. A light breeze had picked up, blowing gently through Stonewall's curls and his own hair. The truck had only one occupant. A look of dawning horror came over Stonewall's face. The shouts were becoming more and more frantic. Stonewall's muscles tensed briefly just before she took off running.

"CAY!" McCoy shouted as he took off after her. He heard Jim and Spock do the same behind him. The truck swerved left and slammed into the brig. Stonewall was still ten feet in front of him when the bomb went off. Many things happened at once. Stonewall skidded to a stop and threw up her arms to shield her face. McCoy, Jim, and Spock did the same. The explosion was deafening. The flash was blinding. The doctor was blown back off his feet and was vaguely aware of his body hitting the ground, the debris raining down on him. He could hear the (now muffled) cries and shrieks of the people on the base. He laid there for God only knows how long until he heard someone shouting his name and was roughly turned over. McCoy blinked at the sudden reappearance of light. Two bright blue eyes were staring at him in concern.

"Bones! Bones, are you okay?" he half-shouted in panic.

McCoy blinked a few more times, then answered, "Yeah, I'm fine," a little more loudly than normal. He staggered to his feet, stumbling slightly and gazing around before lurching in the direction of the explosion.

"Bones, be careful!"

"Dr. McCoy, you have been injured-"

"Hafta find Stonewall!" he rasped.

Jim's hand was soon at his arm, helping him clamber over the debris. Finally, they happened upon the prostrate form of McCay 'Stonewall' Jackson. McCoy frantically began checking her for injuries, making sure there was nothing seriously wrong with her like a neck or back injury. Once he was confident with that, he gently turned her over. She was bleeding from a cut to her forehead and had a few smaller cuts on her arms along with some blossoming bruises; she was otherwise unharmed. He tapped her face a couple times to wake her up. She twitched and groaned, her eyes slowly fluttering open and blinking in the sudden brightness as McCoy had.

"Are you alright, Cay?" he asked.

"What? I can't hear you?"

"ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"

"Yeah, I guess," she half-shouted, "Feel like I been run over by a goddamn semi truck. My head's killin' me."

"Go figure, you're bleedin' from it pretty damn good. Anything else hurt?"

"Everything hurts," she grunted, "but nothing worse than anything else."

She pushed herself into a sitting position with a moan.

"Y'all don't look too hot either…"

McCoy turned to look at Jim and Spock. Jim had a cut alongside his face that was bleeding sluggishly, Spock had green blood oozing from his nose and dripping off his chin. McCoy suddenly became aware of the coppery tang of blood in his mouth and spat on the ground beside him: definitely blood. (He'd cross that bridge when he came to it. Back to Stonewall.) She gently fingered the cut on her head, wincing when she touched it. Suddenly, she seemed to snap back into reality. She muttered, "Oh, God," and clambered shakily to her feet. Jim was by her side in an instant.

"Hey, you need to sit down. You're hurt pretty-"

"No!" she shouted, "I have to-! I need to see what happened! Who's hurt!"

She somehow managed to wrest herself from Jim's grip and clumsily staggered toward (what was left of) the brig, stumbling over pieces of debris. The building that was once called the brig was now gone. It lay strewn about the ground in immense chunks of debris amongst setting clouds of dust. Parts of the foundation were burning, adding acrid smoke to the confusion. People were crying out in pain and fear while others cried out in grief. McCoy rose to his feet and stumbled after her, Jim and Spock close behind. It became more gruesome the closer they got.

The complete disregard for life sickened McCoy; he knew Jim and Spock felt the same way. He checked some of the people lying on the ground, but everyone within 100 feet of the building was dead. The part of his mind that processed things medically was in overdrive, mostly to prevent the emotional part of his mind from shutting his body down right then and there. He spied bodies with missing limbs and heads, with their entrails and bones hanging out, surrounded by pools of their own blood. He swallowed to rid himself of the acid taste of bile. Ahead of him, he saw Stonewall stop in her tracks and drop to her knees. McCoy hurried to get to her. She looked broken.

"This is all my fault, Leonard," she whispered, "I could've stopped this."

"No, don't say that, Cay," he replied, "You did everything you could. It's not your fault."

She didn't respond. She seemed numb. McCoy looked to Jim. The young captain had a mix of emotions on his face, ranging from anger to terror. He stepped forward, saying, "We should go to the hospital. Come on, Bones. They're gonna need you two."

The doctor nodded and looked at Stonewall. Jim moved in and gently scooped her up in his arms; her face remained blank. McCoy slowly got to his feet, faltering slightly, but Spock quickly gripped his bicep to steady him. He quietly thanked the Vulcan, knowing that Spock touching him was something big thanks to his touch-telepathy.

"It is not a problem, doctor. You would do the same."

"Yeah…"

McCoy looked at Jim's back and immediately felt for him. He had looked through the younger man's medical file, and he therefore knew that Jim had been on Tarsus IV. Tarsus IV had been the site of the massacre of 4,000 colonists during a food shortage in 2246. The governor had ordered their deaths to ensure the survival of the remaining 4,000 colonists based on a theory of selective genetics. Thankfully, even with his sensitive allergy system, Jim had survived. McCoy had seen photos of the massacre and couldn't imagine living through it, much less at the tender age of thirteen. It looked much the same on the base at Beta Delta, just on a smaller scale… a much smaller scale. Here, the dead numbered only in the twenties or thirties; 4,000 at the very least died on Tarsus IV.

"Dr. McCoy? We have arrived at the hospital."

Spock's voice cut through the fog, and he snapped back to reality. People had flocked to the hospital after the explosion, many for minor injuries. Jim had taken Stonewall to a separate room. McCoy made the quick note that most of the doctors had vacated the building. The young woman was seated on an exam table, still looking blank and numb. He walked over and placed a hand on her head, carefully avoiding the cut. Her eyes slowly locked onto his. He suppressed a shiver.

"Cay, I'm gonna fix you up," he whispered, "Good as new."

She merely averted her eyes and showed him her right palm. It was sliced open with a jagged cut and fairly dirty. Of course, everyone was dirty, covered in a layer of dust and some in blood. McCoy gathered up a dermal regenerator and a few hypos of antibiotics and vaccines. Jim held her good hand while Spock held the regenerator so McCoy could administer the hypos to her arm. He then pulled out his tricorder to see if she had any other injuries.

"You have five cracked ribs, Cay," he said incredulously, "Why didn't you tell me?"

She only shrugged and replied, "I didn't feel it."

He sighed heavily, running a grimy hand through his hair.

"Fine, but I gotta use the bone knitter on your ribs, so I gotta knock you out. Not even Jim, with all his bone-headed stubbornness, can stay awake through that. Plus, it'll help you rest and sleep dreamlessly for at least a few hours. It'll be fine."

She didn't respond. McCoy gave another small sigh, placed a hand on her cheek, and pressed the hypo into her neck; she didn't even flinch. It only took a few minutes for her eyelids to start fluttering shut and for her to slump into sleep.

"You okay, Bones?"

He looked at Jim and replied, "Yeah… I'm fine. What about you?"

"I guess I'm okay. It's just hard to see y'know," he said quietly.

At this point the door flew open, and a flustered Danny came running in, panting heavily and covered in dust.

"What happened to Cay? Is she hurt? Will she be alright?" he blurted out.

"Don't worry, lieutenant, she'll be fine," McCoy said, "I've just gotta patch up a few cuts and cracked ribs. She's just knocked out because I've gotta use the bone knitter on her ribs, and that hurts like a bitch. She'll wake up in a few hours and be good as new… physically, anyway."

The Brit heaved a sigh of relief, saying, "That's wonderful. I've got to go make a report to Starfleet about this. I'll let them know that she'll be fine. That should relieve them."

"Allow me to come with you, lieutenant. I may be able to supplement your report," Spock said.

"I'd appreciate that very much, sir, but you may want to clean up first."

Spock put a hand up to his face, bringing it back with green blood. He raised an eyebrow and stated, "I hadn't noticed. Doctor, is there anything you can do?"

McCoy gave Spock the once over, determining that his nose was the only problem. He quickly cleaned it up and mended it, sending Spock and Danny on their way. Jim gave a shaky sigh after they left. McCoy immediately placed a hand on his shoulder, asking, "What's wrong, Jim?"

"Just bad memories," he replied with a sad smile, "Lots of them. I know you know about Tarsus IV. It's in my file, and you've read that a hundred times. You know what happened there, Bones. It was all over the news on Earth when it happened. I think… I dunno. It kills me, is all."

"I know, kid," the doctor replied, "Come 'ere. Lemme clean you up. Don't want an infection to set, now, do we?"

_You must picture the consternation of our little town, hitherto so tranquil, and now, out of the blue, shaken to its core, like a quite healthy man who all of a sudden feels his temperature shoot up and the blood seething like wildfire in his veins._

_**The Plague**_

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As I said before, I really hope I'll be able to post sooner. The chapters get a little longer from here on out, just so you're forewarned =] Reviews are like Red Bull during an all-nighter!**_


	7. The Faintest Stirring

**_Sorry it took so long for this chapter to get up.. stupid college, with your work and trying to make me successful._**

**_Anyway, just one quick note for the end of the chapter: you can look at it however you want, but I _****intended_ it to be just a very deep friendship. But feel free to make your own interpretations =]_**

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_They fancied themselves free, and no one will ever be free so long as there are pestilences._

_**The Plague**_

Stonewall woke up about six hours later, McCoy at her side. She sat up slowly, carefully looking around at her surroundings before laying eyes on the older doctor. Thankfully, her eyes were less blank than they'd been earlier that day. McCoy shifted in his chair; he was sore as Hell.

"What happened, Chief? I… I don't remember much," she said sheepishly.

"You had a head injury," McCoy explained, "It's a common side effect. But… uh… there was a suicide bomber. He drove a vehicle into the brig, blowing it up with Aann inside. Current casualty count is 25 dead and 73 wounded. You had multiple cuts, bruises, and four broken ribs."

"Yeah… how long have I been out?" she asked.

"Six hours, give or take."

She nodded slowly to herself, trying to remember it all. After a moment, she sighed, saying, "I'm sure it all come flooding back in horrible clarity eventually… and sooner rather than later."

McCoy cleared his throat, rose to his feet, joints popping in protest, and stated that he was going to giver her a once over before he let her go. The two of them ended up spending another six hours performing small surgeries and taking care of minor wounds in a clinic until they could barely see straight and were ushered off to Stonewall's quarters by McNabb; he seemed to take special care with his CO.

"About time you got back," Jim said as they entered, "Shit… you look beat."

"Ya think?" they both answered, causing Jim to throw up his hands in defeat and Spock to raise an eyebrow. Stonewall seemed to ignore her dirty clothes as she climbed into bed and promptly fell asleep. McCoy had now taken residence in a spare cot freed by the quick recovery of the base crew, as had Jim. The young captain sidled up beside his doctor and whispered, "How is she, Bones? Y'know…"

"She said she don't remember a thing," he replied quietly, "but I'm not sure. She might just be suffering from temporary amnesia brought on by stress, or she might be subconsciously blocking it from her mind to not think about it. Either way, I think we're in for it tonight, kid. Now lemme get to sleep. I'm beat ta Hell."

Jim nodded, stepping away. McCoy was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. His subconscious thankfully avoided the day's events and gave him dreamless sleep until he was abruptly woken by a scream. The other two men were already awake, and Jim was hovering over Stonewall, trying to wake her. He looked to McCoy and said, "It's not working. I can't wake her up."

He rose with "I'll handle it," and stood over her. Her face was contorted with fear, anger, and grief as she writhed on the bed. McCoy reached out a hand and placed it on her forehead, just as he used to do for his little daughter, Joanna, when she had nightmares. Stonewall's face and body calmed slightly at his touch, more so as he stroked her hair. After a moment, her dark blue eyes opened, staring fearfully up at the doctor until she realized who it was. Then her eyes filled with tears that hurriedly spilled over. She pushed herself up into a sitting position.

"Chief…" she whimpered, "Leonard, I remember. I remember what happened. I remem-"

Her voice was choked by a sob she couldn't hold back. She burst into tears, crying in earnest and clutching at McCoy as if her life depended on it. Jim stood awkwardly by, wringing his hands before slowly stepping forward to sit by them on the bed and placing his hand on her back. Spock remained where he was, hands behind his back until Stonewall asked for Danny, at which point he left to go find the young man. The Brit appeared in record time. He rushed forward, his blue eyes wide with fear as he asked, "Is she alright? Are you alright, McCay? What happened?"

"She had a nightmare 'bout what happened," McCoy replied, "She asked for you."

As soon as McCoy let go of her, Danny was there to take his place. It was utterly endearing. Danny immediately began murmuring to her and stroking her hair and back, anything to calm her. A blind man could've seen the deep feelings he had for her. McCoy quietly suggested that the three of them go for a walk until the situation blew over.

"The lieutenant shows signs of some affection for Dr. Jackson," Spock said.

Jim snorted, replying, "Spock, he's obviously head over heels for her! _Anyone_ could see that!"

"That's the truth," McCoy mumbled.

"Well, I think it's sweet."

"What?"

"Oh wipe that smirk off your face, Bones," Jim said with a smack to McCoy's arm, "I'm just sayin' that I think it's great they can find something to be happy about in all this bad stuff. I hope they get together, honestly. It'll be nice."

"Y'know, Jimbo, I'd say you were in danger of becoming a decent human being."

Jim smirked, then yawned and suggested they all go back to Stonewall's quarters and go to sleep; the other two agreed. McCoy poked his head in first as a precaution before allowing Jim and Spock in. Danny was sitting against the wall, his eyes closed and clearly asleep, and Dr. Stonewall Jackson was sleeping soundly in his arms. McCoy couldn't help but smile. Jim gently touched his wrist, also wearing a small smile, and jerked his head towards his cot in a silent invitation that McCoy gratefully accepted. He chastely spooned up behind Jim as they'd done a hundred times while at the Academy if one or the other was having a bad day. It wasn't a big deal. Instinctively, he remained awake until Jim's breathing evened out and his soft snoring could just barely be heard by the man behind him. Only then, when the younger man was safely asleep, did the doctor allow himself to drift off into sleep.

_Once the faintest stirring of hope became possible, the dominion of the plague was ended._

_**The Plague**_

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Just a few more chapters to go before the end! Reviews are always appreciated and so are alerts =] Thanks for reading!**_


	8. A Fresh Start

**_Got this chappie up nice and quick this time!_**

**_Now then, some of you may be thinking that my Beta Deltans resemble the Na'avi from Avatar, what with them being all tall and blue and skinny and nature-loving. But I started writing this BEFORE Avatar came out. So it's not my fault... even if I did add in one teeny, tiny homage to it. Props to whoever finds it along with my usual MASH references =]_**

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_Its energy was flagging, out of exhaustion and exasperation, and it was losing, with its self-command, the ruthless, almost mathematical efficiency that had been its trump-card hitherto._

_**The Plague**_

McCoy hated having to wear his dress uniform. It was much too tight and stuffy for his taste; he much preferred the mobility of his scrubs and regular uniform. However, Starfleet Command had dictated that everyone in attendance of this particular event needed to be in dress uniform, so McCoy wasn't about to disobey. Plus, he was to be an honored guest, just like Jim, Spock, and of course, Dr. 'Stonewall' Jackson. For today was a ceremony commemorating the dead of Starfleet and a celebration of the cementing of the bonds of friendship between Beta Delta and the Federation. First came the celebration. The two doctors, the young captain, and the half-Vulcan were seated alongside several dignitaries of the government on a stage in front the Starfleet officers and NCOs and most of the city, presided over by Judge Saye'eesa. She, even more so than most of her kind, was tall and spindly, pale blue, and with a long silvery braid that was wrapped up into a bun. Her eyes were a steely pale green. She first greeted the assembly in the native tongue of Beta Delta. The words were unknown to McCoy, but the melodic, almost song-like quality of the older female's alto had him entranced. She was also rather hard to ignore while speaking Standard. She recognized McCoy and Stonewall for their service in the protection of life, Jim for organizing work parties involving both his own crew and the local population, and Spock for catching a crucial member of the Kleel Mai'iy and protecting the base.

"You have shown the goodness of the Federation and of Starfleet more clearly than ever before. Your willingness to put yourselves in danger to help your fellow beings in distress is most admirable," she stated, "We are grateful to you. You helped stop the spread of this plague before it had the chance to affect our whole world. There is no real way great enough to express our gratitude and joy, but we hope what we can give is enough."

Judge Saye'eesa was handed a box that was opened to reveal four medals. They were made from a material that resembled glass or diamond and had been shaped into a seven-pointed star with a solid pale blue gem in the middle. They hung from silky, deep green ribbons.

"These medals are our highest honor. They are made from the most precious resources on our planet. The fabric of the ribbon is woven from the hair of a rare creature found only in the high mountains. The medal itself is carved from a precious material that is difficult to obtain due to its location deep under rivers and other wet areas. The gem at the center is the most cherished of all. Such gems are only found in the mines of a mountain that used to be covered by a deep sea. These stones are the greatest treasures of our people. We now gift and award them to you in honor of your great service. It is my wish that we had the resources to award one to every member of Starfleet present and not. However, we do have other commendations for all, especially for the dead. If you will provide the names of your dead, we gladly provide each a special commendation."

"I can have a list to you tomorrow, Your Honor," Stonewall stated.

"I anticipate it, doctor," the judge replied, "Now then, know that we will do all in our power to rid our planet of the Kleel Mai'iy. There is no room for terrorist organizations in our midst. We will seek out these murderers and terrorists, and we will punish them harshly for their crimes against our people and yours, for you are considered among our people now as we are considered among yours as a member of the Federation. As you are among our people, allow us to give our funeral rites to your honored dead."

"We would be honored by your kindness, Judge Saye'eesa," Stonewall replied.

The judge smiled, bade them to sit, and made a command in the native language. The city of Medi'ina'avi exploded with sound and color. There was music and dancing, as well as a plethora of vibrant costumes. McCoy was a little confused, honestly. Stonewall noticed and leaned in.

"Death isn't necessarily a bad thing for someone here," she explained, "They don't really mourn for too long, and they do it in the middle of a celebration of the life they lived and their transition to the afterlife where they care for the planet. Death is just another part of life, another transition to be celebrated. Personally, I like it."

McCoy turned to look at Jim. The young captain was mesmerized, an amazed grin on his face, his blue eyes wide with wonder. Spock looked stoic as ever, but McCoy could tell he was fascinated by the proceedings. McCoy turned back to the ceremony. The color and noise began to fade away until only drab neutrals and a lone, somber mezzo-soprano voice remained. The older doctor had to swallow around the lump in his throat as baritone voices joined in with perfect harmony, rising in volume until they drowned out the woman's voice. Stonewall explained that this symbolized death and a journey to the Realm of the Watchers, their afterlife where souls looked after the natural world to ensure that all was right with the planet as a whole.

"It's supposed to be a journey in which one goes through darkness and fear only to emerge into the Realm where there is only light and peace," she whispered, "Keep watching, Chief."

A single, strong soprano note broke through. A tall female emerged, clad in brighter colors than before. Other voices swelled in and up. Those who had been clad in neutrals threw them off in favor of bright, rich hues. The melody that everyone joined together in sounded happy and joyous. Even the general citizenry joined in the singing. The beat thumped into McCoy's core, vibrating his ribcage. It was just… _awesome_. He barely felt Jim's constant nudges to look in every direction, as he was too busy looking elsewhere. Colorful birds were released, looking like jewel-toned, long-tailed doves crossed with quail. It ended with a flourish… and a series of loud booms. Every member of Starfleet flinched involuntarily before looking skyward and gasping. _Fireworks_. And these weren't just any regular old fireworks, either. They were as vivid as the costumes and formed magnificent shapes above their heads everything from stars and planets to flora and fauna. McCoy felt like a kid again, awed by fireworks on the Fourth of July in Georgia; he knew his mouth was hanging open.

After the spectacular display, Judge Saye'eesa took the stage for another speech, this time speaking only in the native tongue. She turned to the four humanoids onstage and something McCoy didn't understand but Stonewall repeated back with a slight difference. Jim and Spock remained silent. The judge then invited them to a feast they agreed to attend. McCoy tugged briefly at the collar of his blue dress jacket and turned to Jim and Spock while Stonewall spoke with the judge. The Vulcan stood ramrod straight with his hands clasped behind his back, as usual, just as comfortable in his blue dress and black slacks as his usual uniform. Jim seemed antsy, dressed the same as McCoy and Spock except for a gold dress jacket instead of blue. His eyes flicked over to Stonewall briefly. She was chatting good-naturedly with the judge, not minding her own blue jacket, black pencil skirt, and black pumps.

"Hey, do you know what the judge and Jackson said to each other at the end, Bones?"

McCoy replied, "No clue," with a shake of his head and continuing with, "Ceremony was somethin' else, though. Didn't think it'd be that… epic."

"Nor did I, but it _was_ fascinating."

The three of them delved into a conversation about the ceremony until Stonewall and Judge Saye'eesa came over. The three men bowed respectfully to the judge before she led them to the banquet hall. The room was filled with Beta Deltan dignitaries and politicians, mostly all female. The three men had to bow to all of them, a sign of the matriarchal society, while Stonewall merely shook hands with them and accepted bows from the few males in the political elite. Jim was quite at ease hobnobbing with the politicians and such, as was Spock, and McCoy wasn't doing too bad himself. Stonewall, however, was the center of attention. She seemed to know damn near everyone in attendance, moving gracefully from conversation to conversation. With that skill, she could be an admiral in no time.

The feast itself was magnificent. Judge Saye'eesa had spared no expense for them and the other dignitaries. She even explained what everything was to them to make sure they didn't eat anything disagreeable or bad for them. The food was as brightly colored as the fireworks and mostly consisted of fruits and vegetation, although there were a few types of fish and fowl-like meats available, as well. Jim and Spock were deep in conversation with a politician of some sort, asking all manner of questions about Beta Deltan culture and society. McCoy sat in silence beside Stonewall.

"You're awfully quiet, Chief," she whispered, "Somethin' on your mind?"

"I dunno… they're just awful nice people here. We ain't used to coming across peaceful people. The _Enterprise_ really hasn't had good luck with finding peaceful missions."

"Yeah, I bet, but remember, it wasn't too peaceful here for a while, either."

"True…"

At that point, an older female struck up a conversation with McCoy, and she happened to be a doctor also. McCoy listened attentively while she talked about Beta Deltan medical technology. It was deceptively advanced, about the same level of Starfleet itself. She continuously praised Stonewall, saying the young woman was an exceptional doctor and had a most brilliant mind. The Beta Deltan, who called herself Dr. Mi'ian'naa, apparently had had the opportunity to work with Stonewall during an outbreak of a virus in the city and found her wonderfully capable.

"Your Dr. Jackson is a delight to work with," she stated, "Judge Saye'eesa has taught her a great deal about our people, and she knows much about our physiology. The judge found a way for her to go into one of our medical schools to learn our anatomy and basic diseases. Even better, Dr. Jackson has a desire to learn all she can when she is unknowledgeable."

"Oh, she's always been like that."

"Always? You have known her a long time?"

"Not really a long time… I taught a few classes at Starfleet Medical, and she was in all of them. I also was in charge of the clinic at Starfleet Medical. Sto-… Jackson was always on the same shift I was, so I got to know her pretty well. She's like a younger sister to me, really."

"That is very kind," Mi'ian'naa said, "Family is also important on your planet, then?"

"Usually, but some don't think so," he replied, dropping his eyes into his lap.

"I have said something that is disagreeable to you, haven't I? You have had problems with your family, yes? I am sorry. I did not intend to cause discomfort, Dr. McCoy."

"Don't worry about it. You didn't know, doctor."

"Of course. So, tell me more of your triage techniques. Dr. Jackson has a skill for it and claims you taught her everything…"

Dr. Mi'ian'naa was a great listener and even occasionally took notes when she found something particularly interesting. The feast ended a few hours after it began following a delicious dessert. Judge Saye'eesa thanked everyone for attending, especially the four members of Starfleet, and many began to leave. Jim, Spock, Stonewall, and McCoy were among the last to head out. It had grown dark outside, a myriad of stars sparkling overhead in unfamiliar constellations. The four of them chattered on about the evening and their favorite parts of the ceremony and how good the food was. McCoy mentioned Mi'ian'naa.

"Oh, she's wonderful. Dr. Mi'ian'naa is the most acclaimed doctor on Beta Delta. She's won awards, been praised by everyone from science journals to medical schools to local papers. I've learned a lot from her about the people here, maybe even more than from Judge Saye'eesa. But she's awesome really. It's pretty cool that she was taking notes from you on anything."

"She seemed to like my ideas on triage," he answered, "Y'know… different levels for different kinds of problems, size of the medical facility, you know all of it, Stonewall. I taught ya when I thought it up."

Danny was waiting nearby the base entrance with a member of security and a vehicle, smiling sheepishly at Stonewall.

"Welcome back everyone," the Brit said cheerfully, "I trust you all enjoyed yourselves. Judge Saye'eesa is well known for her excellent parties and festivities. A fantastic planner. I expect you four can't wait to get out of those dress uniforms."

"Got that right," three voices chimed.

"Not a problem. We'll back at your quarters in a tick. You'll have to be wearing them again tomorrow. The admiralty will be arriving, at least a few of them, for a Starfleet ceremony. Very official."

The same three voices groaned in exasperation. Spock was the only one who seemed comfortable.

"At least tomorrow, everyone'll have to wear it," Jim said, "You all get to suffer right along with us."

"Very true," Danny replied with a smirk, "We'll all be in together."

~*xXx*~

The official Starfleet ceremony wasn't nearly as fun as the one put on by Judge Saye'eesa. McCoy was stuck once again in his stuffy, blue jacket and stuffy black slacks. He fidgeted with it the whole time. The admirals that were present kept droning on and on about loyalty and bravery in the face of tragedy. Then the last speaker, Adm. Pike. Stepped forward, which was quite an accomplishment seeing as how he was still recovering from the spinal injury he suffered at the hands of the Romulan terrorist Nero. McCoy could see the slightly stiffer than normal walk that indicated Pike was using old-fashioned (antique) leg braces to walk. He made a mental note to ask about it later.

"Well," Pike said, smiling, "I'm not one for big, long speeches or sugarcoating events. It's just not how I do things. I prefer to tell it like it is. Cpt. Kirk here can tell you that.

"So I'm going to tell you all the truth," he continued, the smirk fading, "Dr. Jackson performed admirably and bravely under the gravest of conditions. She spent hours in quarantine, caring for her patients even when she didn't know if or when the disease would claim her. She took on the responsibility of a commanding officer _and_ a chief medical officer while still trying to handle an epidemic. She is the epitome of what a Starfleet officer should be, one who is willing to sacrifice their safety to ensure the survival of their comrades.

"She's not the only officer like that here, either. Cpt. Kirk, Cdr. Spock, and Cdr. McCoy of the _USS Enterprise_ are all examples of this, too. Dr. McCoy jumped right into the fray, despite the danger to himself. He gave up his own time and safety to help his fellow officers and men. Cdr. Spock helped coordinate a massive data search through days of tape and vast amounts of computer information for the culprit who perpetrated this offense against Starfleet and Beta Delta. Cpt. Kirk put together a daunting relief schedule for the on-base crew, including at least two rotations of his own people, not to mention the fact that he risked his career to help out another member of the 'Fleet by disobeying direct orders to avoid Beta Delta by any means necessary. However, I think we all know that Kirk works best on the fringe of the rulebook.

"They represent different kinds of bravery, but it's bravery nonetheless, and they deserve to be honored for this bravery… as does the entire base on Beta Delta. All of you showed great courage and strength in continuing to run this base. I especially want to commend the female personnel. You gave up a whole shift of free time and other work to aid in quarantine, as well as taking on the duties of your fallen comrades on top of your own. For that, you deserve to be honored."

Then there came a long procession of awards and commendations, and even a few promotions. This long line ended with Jim, Spock, McCoy, and Stonewall, the last of which got a standing ovation and a chant of her centuries old nickname. Pike was smiling again. After that came a brief closing remark, and the program was adjourned. The other personnel quickly dispersed, but the four stayed behind to speak to Adm. Pike.

"Good to see you on your feet," Jim said with a smirk.

"It's good to back on 'em," Pike replied, "but _you_ still look concerned, McCoy."

The doctor's felt a little warmer at being called out by the admiral but responded, "Yeah, ya got me. Well, I'd be honored to give ya a once over if you'd let me."

"As if I could say no once you got it in your head."

Jim sniggered.

"Oh, shut it, Jim, or I'll give _you_ a check-up next, whether ya want it or not!"

The young captain fell silent immediately, eliciting a chuckle from both Pike and Stonewall. McCoy and Jim positioned themselves on either side of Adm. Pike in case he needed assistance and headed off in the direction of the nearest med bay. Pike calmly consented to McCoy's poking and prodding, as well as the presence of Jim, Spock, and Stonewall. He spent the longest period of time going over the admiral's spine and the nerves and muscles of his legs before finally backing off and pronouncing, quite unnecessarily, that the man was recovering just fine. The three humans smirked at him; the half-Vulcan merely raised an eyebrow. They then sat around chatting for a few hours, during which Stonewall was properly introduced to Pike and they got along swimmingly. They shared a certain dry, sarcastic, quick-witted sense of humor.

"Well, I need to be off. Can't keep the rest of the brass waiting."

"You just keep doing physical therapy and let the doctors handle everything," McCoy said, "You'll be completely healed in two months, three tops."

"Yeah… but don't be too hard on yourself."

"No problem, kid," Pike replied, "and don't worry about me, McCoy. Dr. Potter is my attending, and you know that means I'm not getting any slack from him. Alright then… I better be off. Glad we had that talk earlier, Kirk."

The admiral winked and was gone. Everyone looked at Jim.

"I was not aware of any converse between you and Adm. Pike," Spock stated, "What did it concern?"

"Oh, just a small matter about running a ship," Jim answered calmly, "About replacing certain members of personnel who have… left us involuntarily. Like Dr. Baker, Lt. Colreks, and Engineer McElhinney. And we need replacements, so…"

"So… what?"

"So I'm replacing them with Stonewall, McNabb, and Reyes… that is, if they wanna join our merry band."

Stonewall's face lit up like the proverbial Christmas Tree as she squealed an affirmative and threw herself at Jim and McCoy. She was grinning like a fool, her face all flushed, as she said, "I can't wait to tell Danny and Tati. They'll be so thrilled!"

"We already know, m'am."

"Found out before the ceremony. Your boy can't keep his mouth shut."

Danny and Tati stood before them. The redhead was his usual chipper self, and Tati seemed to be happier than usual; she'd obviously had her coffee.

"I've already gotten your things packed and ready to put on board," Danny stated, "Hope you don't mind, m'am, but time _is_ of the essence. The _Enterprise_ is under orders to pull out as soon as able… as in with us all onboard."

"Well… there isn't any time to waste then, is there?" Stonewall responded.

When she met them at the transporter pad wearing a Civil War-style, grey cavalry hat and aviators, McCoy knew she would fit right into their crazy, dysfunctional 'family'.

_Yes, he'd make a fresh start, once the period of "abstractions" was over._

_**The Plague**_

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**_The story is almost over!_**

**_Thanks so much to everyone who's been keeping up with this story, either from the beginning or the end, and to anyone who gave a review on it. This story took forever for me to finish, like 6 or 7 months, so I'm really grateful to everyone who likes it!_**


	9. Epilogue

**_Here it is! This is the final chapter of the story, in case you haven't guessed =] So enough of the talk, and on with the story!_**

**_A/N: Just a small warning for language._**

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The situation in the main medical bay on the _USS Enterprise_ could only be described as a clusterfuck. There had been an explosion in one of the weapons bays, and every med bay was filled with personnel. The most serious cases had been sent to McCoy in the main bay and to Stonewall on the lower deck nearest the weapons bay. McCoy hoped she was holding up alright, continually telling himself that she could handle it and that she was made of stronger stuff than most people supposed. He couldn't even take the time to worry about her because he had to concern himself with the bleeding and broken personnel in front of him. It was old school meatball surgery he learned about in med school, where you just had to take care of the basics and worry about making it pretty later.

"Dr. McCoy?" a female voice behind him said slowly, "We're all finished."

He turned to find Nurse Chapel. Her blonde bob was looking a little frizzy and there were dark circles under her eyes, not to mention the obvious slump of her shoulders… but other than that she still maintained her professionalism. It was impressive.

"Everyone here is stabilized, sir. I would suggest that you get some rest. You look like you need it."

"I will, I will," he replied with a wave of his hand, "I'm just gonna go check on everyone first."

Chapel fixed him with her most motherly look, saying, "Sir, with all due respect, you need sleep-"

"I said _I will_, I'm just gonna go check on everyone else. It's kinda my job."

"Fine."

She glared at him as he left, and he pretended not to notice. So far, everyone seemed to be doing quite well, having only to deal with minor injuries like cuts, lacerations, and fractures. Then, he braced himself for Stonewall's med bay. It had been nearest the explosion, so she got all the worst cases. Upon entry, however, he found himself mildly surprised. The med bay was orderly and completely triaged. All those with mild injuries had obviously been sent away so she could take care of those who were the most seriously wounded. The rooms were filled with the sound of life sustaining machinery: beeping, whirring, buzzing, hissing. A male nurse he barely recognized as being called O'Houlihan scurried over.

"What can I do for you, sir? Are you looking for someone in particular?" he asked.

"Yeah, where's St-… Dr. Jackson? I'd like to speak with her if she's available."

McCoy nearly winced at the sound of his own voice. It was tired and raspy and made him sound far older than he really was. Meatball surgery was (as McCoy had been taught) pretty rough back in the Korean War, and he could tell you that it hadn't gotten any better since then. He'd still been on his feet for over twelve hours, putting people back together as best he could. He scrubbed tiredly at his face as a drawn and fatigued Stonewall emerged from… somewhere. Whatever eye make-up she'd been wearing was smudged, her hair had begun to fall out of its already messy knot, and she swayed uncertainly on her feet, stifling a yawn.

"Hangin' in there, Stonewall?"

"Yup… all done… was gonna go catch some shut-eye."

"Me too… just wanted to look in on ya…"

"Aw, you do care, Chief."

He swatted half-heartedly at her bicep as Danny came in bearing a small meal on a tray.

"There you are, Cay," the Brit said, "I heard a rumor you would be all finished about now, so I took the liberty of putting together a spot of food for you. Oh, Dr. McCoy, I'd have done for you too if I'd have known you'd be here. I do hope you don't mind."

McCoy opened his mouth to respond, but at that point, their little party grew. Jim and Spock showed up.

"Bones, I heard you were down here. How'd the… uh… clean-up go?" Jim asked.

The older doctor rattled off the statistics of the day, citing the dead and wounded with a certain clinical efficiency; Stonewall added her own information.

"I hope you were not over-stressed by the influx of wounded," Spock directed at Stonewall, "It was only logical to direct the most serious cases to the nearest medical aid."

"No, no, it's fine. That was like a walk in the park after Beta Delta… well, maybe not a walk… more like a 5k run compared to an Iron Man triathlon. Is Tati alright?"

"She's helping Scotty with clean-up and some rerouting. She's fine… probably just tired… like you and Bones. You two should get some sleep. Captain's orders."

Jim winked on the last part. Danny began shepherding Stonewall out of the med bay and off to her quarters, and Jim did the same with McCoy. The older man didn't have the energy to resist. The only thing he had energy for was collapsing on his bed and muttering, "Good job on getting Stonewall onboard. She's a good fit… good doctor."

"She learned from the best, Bones. Now go to sleep. You deserve it."

McCoy just barely registered the smile in Jim's voice before sleep completely overtook him.

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**_The End! Thank you all so much for sticking by this story even with the initially sporadic updates. Thanks especially to anyone who reviewed or sent me a message during the process. I really appreciate all the concrit and love. You're AWESOME!_**


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